


A Short Break

by starvonnie



Category: Transformers: Prime
Genre: Blow Jobs, Deepthroating, M/M, Oral Sex, Public Sex, Sticky Sexual Interfacing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-22
Updated: 2016-12-22
Packaged: 2018-09-11 02:48:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8950915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starvonnie/pseuds/starvonnie
Summary: Knock Out convinces Ratchet to take a little break from his work to de-stress.





	

"You work too hard."

"Or maybe you don't work hard enough."  Ratchet didn't even look up from what he was doing when Knock Out slid an arm around his waist.  Even if he'd just buffed himself and looked great, because, really, he always looked great, he wasn't going to drag him away again.  This would be the third time this week if he succeeded.

"Come now, Ratchet.  You act like lives are hanging in the balance."  Knock Out snuggled right up to him, but Ratchet still kept his optics down.  "At least take a break.  Help me into recharge?"  Where his hands ended up insinuated more than what his words suggested.

"You've managed just fine without me for years.  I'm sure you'll be fine for one more night."

"Harsh."  Knock Out was still smiling, though.  "Fine, then.  You won't come to berth, so I guess I just have to bring the berth to you."

Ratchet sighed in lieu of asking what dumb idea he'd gotten in his processor.  There was always something stewing in a speedster's mind.  Never anything useful, mind you.  Tonight seemed like an extra dumb idea as he watched Knock Out get to his knees in his peripheries.

"What are you doing?" Ratchet said through a sigh.

Knock Out just hummed in response as he settled himself under the desk with his hands on Ratchet's hips.

"If you're doing what I think you're--ah!"  Ratchet was forced to grip the edge of the desk when Knock Out's glossa licked up the seam of his modesty panel.  "Get out from under there!"

"I think I've found us a nice compromise.  You can keep working, and I get the quality time with you I've been missing."  Knock Out's red optics glinted mischievously up at him.

"Absolutely not!  Someone could walk in at any time!"

"Oh, please, they're all recharging like _we should be_."  Knock Out's glossa flicked out once more, and Ratchet had to stop his panel from opening.  "You know you want me to."  He kissed at his panel.  "All you have to do is open up for me and let me work."

Ratchet scowled at him.

"Or, you could come to berth and we wouldn't have to have this argument," Knock Out said, a little irritation in his voice.

Ratchet huffed.  "Fine.  Do what you want."

"That's a good medic.  Now open up for me."

Ratchet couldn't lie that it was a relief to release his spike.  It wasn't quite fully pressurized yet, but Knock Out's mouth made short work of that.  By the time it was there, Ratchet knew he wasn't getting any work done. 

Knock Out's mouth was warm and wet, and all too eager to be doing this.  Ratchet couldn't help but shut his optics, but he forced himself to stay quiet.  Even though he was sure that they were indeed asleep, there was no need to make any noises that might arouse their curiosity.  Primus forbid Optimus find them doing this.

Okay, so thinking couldn't happen right then, but maybe he could at least read over his notes.  But the glyphs refused to make any sense to his lustful optics.  They swam in front of him on the datapads, all his thoughts culminating on Knock Out.

:: _Doesn't this feel good?_ :: Knock Out purred through his internal comm.  :: _Much better than whatever you were working on, I'm sure_.::

"Someone needs to finish this," Ratchet said through grit denta. 

Knock Out laughed around his spike and then took it in to the hilt.  That had Ratchet leaving dents in the desk.  Hopefully no one would notice them the day after.  As long as Knock Out didn't do anything that forced him to make the imprints more noticeable.

:: _If you're trying to end this quickly that's the way to do it_.::  Ratchet was afraid if he said that out loud it would just come out as a moan.

:: _Poor Ratchet doesn't have the stamina he used to have, hm?_ ::  Ratchet could hear Knock Out's sneer even with his mouth occupied.  :: _Or maybe I'm just that good_.::

Ratchet said nothing back.  He was doing all he could not to overload so soon.  All of his efforts were going to be wasted, though.  Because Knock Out did that thing with his glossa that only he could do, and after a few swirls Ratchet grabbed the back of Knock Out's helm and thrust into his mouth.  Transfluid pumped down his throat as Knock Out moved his helm as much as he could in Ratchet's grip, milking the last few drops out.

His spike had depressurized to half its length by the time Ratchet released Knock Out.  The ex-Decepticon wiped the last bit of fluid from his mouth as he stood.

"Now, don't you feel better?" Knock Out said with a smirk.

"I guess," Ratchet grumbled.

"Really, though, you should come to berth."  Knock Out rubbed his back, and only then did Ratchet realize how sore it was.  He started to feel the tightness in his joints, too.

"Maybe I... could use a break," Ratchet conceded.

Knock Out kissed his cheek and took his hand.  "You can tackle this after you've had a good night's rest.  You're no use to us if you work yourself to death."

"Maybe if you helped me we would be done already," Ratchet teased.  But the fatigue hit him the moment he took a step away from the desk, and he was glad to have Knock Out there, caring for him when he forgot to.


End file.
